


Starry Eyes

by Anastasia3000



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Constellations, F/F, Family, Family Bonding, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-13 15:00:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17490131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anastasia3000/pseuds/Anastasia3000
Summary: With her head gently pressed against Therese’s shoulder, Carol caught a whiff of citrus in the breeze – the innocent happiness of her childhood inhabited her for a moment, then it migrated into her adulthood, and she thought that, maybe, no time had really passed at all.





	Starry Eyes

 

> Starry, starry night  
>  Paint your palette blue and gray  
>  Look out on a summer’s day  
>  With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
> 
> \- Don McLean, _Vincent_

The tartan blanket. Always the tartan blanket.

She had asked Rindy why she loved it so much.  _Because it’s like aunt Therese’s skirt_. Carol caressed the soft chequered fabric – the must-go blanket of their summer jaunts and picnics.

In the length of a dinner they had made plans for their impromptu night out – Rindy desired so much to gaze at the stars and the sky was so perfectly clear, it was impossible to tell her no. Carol distinctively remembered a summer night of more than twenty years before – she and her sister had turned their eyes to the night sky to get lost in it, the baritone voice of her grandfather ringed clearly in her ears still after all those years. His tales about stars had the flavour of parsley and lemongrass, but the smell of cologne and the cigars he smoked. Therese had never been allowed to dream with such languor during her childhood.

“Mommy! Hurry up!” Rindy was bouncing around Carol and Therese’s bedroom, her excitement too much to be contained and exasperated by her mother’s slowness. Therese waited for her leaning against the door frame.

                                                                                                       

                                                                           

**;**

 

 

The day heat was still seeping through the ground beneath their backs. Therese was pointing at the stars and connecting the twinkling dots into constellations to show Rindy; Carol had only managed to see the Ursa Major, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all, because she loved hearing Therese speak, she loved hearing all the stories she had to tell.

With her head gently pressed against Therese’s shoulder, Carol caught a whiff of citrus in the breeze – the innocent happiness of her childhood inhabited her for a moment, then it migrated into her adulthood, and she thought that, maybe, no time had really passed at all.


End file.
